


All Pink and Yellow and Very Very Human

by WhoInWhoville



Series: Christmastime is Here [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 1950s, AU, F/M, Human Nature, Human Tenth Doctor, Jack is Jack, Mickey is Michelle Smyth, Pining, Romance, Ten is human companion, University, and Mickey rocks, because Michelle isn't nice, but Michelle isn't really Mickey, fem!doctor - Freeform, gender bend, jealous Rose, rose is the doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoInWhoville/pseuds/WhoInWhoville
Summary: PhD candidate Rose Tyler is in love with Professor John Smith. John Smith is in love with his research assistant, Rose Tyler. But Professor Smith is keeping a secret from her, and it's a whopper.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gender-bend with Rose as the Doctor, and Ten as her human companion. This was way out of my comfort zone. It is present tense omniscient, so we know both of the main character's thoughts. Writing Rose as the Doctor was also a challenge. I still like this story, and I hope you do too.
> 
> Thanks for your patience as I continue to put some of my work back up.
> 
> Originally written and posted in December of 2011. Re-posting.

## Part I

She doesn’t remember being more nervous about anything in her entire life, all twenty-three years of it. Rose Tyler knows she must convince him that she is the one he needs. He only takes the best, after all.

She draws in a breath and raps on the ancient wood door of his office. She has worn her favorite (and she claims lucky) silvery-blue cashmere twinset and matching chocolate brown-colored pencil skirt with silvery blue pinstripes. In no way could she afford such luxurious clothing new, but she stumbled upon the items, still bearing the original tags, at a charity shop and treated herself in a rare show of spontaneity. 

She carefully manages her dwindling savings account, and knows how to squeeze every pence out of a pound, having spent her teens in a very modest neighborhood in south London and paying her own way through university working as a shop girl. 

Hope rises that her days selling clothing to wealthy girls who couldn’t give a toss for physics and black holes and space travel are at an end. She shifts her weight between her white plimsoll-clad feet as she waits.

Dr. Smith’s voice beckons her in, followed with a somewhat firm admonition. “You’re late Miss Tyler.”

“Sorry, Professor Smith. My bicycle blew a tyre and I had to walk it the last mile.”

A smile grows on his face, and she relaxes a bit. “It’s all right Tyler, although I can’t imagine how you ride a bicycle in that skirt.” He eyes her skirt with a half smile and quirked eyebrow.

“With difficulty, but I am very talented and have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She smiles, and there is a hint of her tongue poking through the side of her mouth. Dr. Smith is momentarily distracted by this, but quickly regains his professional distance, clearing his voice.

“Was starting to think you decided not to interview for the position after all.” 

She picks at her fingernails, and he sighs at bit inwardly at the nervous ritual he has witnessed her perform countless times while she sat in the front row of his lecture hall. This girl has no reason to be nervous, he thinks. She’s brilliant and different from any woman, let alone physics student, he has ever known.

“Have a seat Miss Tyler, take a deep breath. Now, tell me,” he leans forward in his chair, “why do you want to be my research assistant?”

She recites the perfectly adequate answer she has practiced a hundred times in front of the mirror, and he grins cheekily.

“That was a good answer if you were writing for the curriculum catalogue. Now tell me why you _need_ to be my research assistant.”

She puffs out her pink cheeks, blows a funny sound through her lips, and slaps her thighs in determination. 

“I need… I need…” she closes her eyes before she continues, “I need space and stars and to get off of this ruddy rock, or at least make it possible for others who come after me to go into space, and I know you are the key to that. I need you to help me escape gravity, Dr. Smith. I don’t belong here.”

He blinks hard, and his heart swells. The interview has been a sham of course, as there is no one else he would ever consider for the position, but he has properly advertised as per the rules and regulations, and has even interviewed several others. He offers her the position on the spot. She is to report tomorrow morning at seven sharp. 

He stands to shake her hand, but she hugs him instead. It is thoroughly platonic, although it is not a very appropriate thing to do. His heart deflates just a little because it is so very friendly.

He offers to help her fix her flat, and she happily accepts. She waves “bye” as she rides off into the glowing sunlight of a golden October afternoon.


	2. Part II

## Part II

“Hiya Captain Jack!” She tries to imitate his American drawl, failing miserably. “Chips and a pint please, I’m celebrating!”

The handsome barkeep with the devastating dimples and sapphire blue eyes leans on the counter so he is almost nose to nose with the pretty girl. He is always in her personal space, but she doesn’t really mind. She never feels threatened by his flirting and teasing propositions. He has never tried to touch her inappropriately. He seems to be all words, no action when it comes to Rose Tyler. She sees him flirt with all sorts of pretty people and she finds it all rather amusing. The man has quite a reputation with the ladies — if she is to believe the rumors around town.

“I got the position. Dr. Smith hired me on the spot!” She takes a healthy sip of her ale.

“Congrats, sweetheart! Never doubted you would. This one’s on me. Chips too.”

“Thanks Jack. You spoil me, ya know.” She sighs contentedly. 

Her life seems almost perfect right now. It’s about time. It hasn’t been easy, getting to this spot. 

As an infant, she’d been adopted by an elderly and very wealthy husband and wife — intellectuals — who lived in a small village in Ireland by the name of Gallifrey. No one has ever heard of it, and it has been all but abandoned, she understands, though she’s never been back since her adopted parents were killed in that horrible fire. 

She recovered from the physical injuries, but the emotional scars remain to this day in the form of nightmares of an all-consuming fire and a hesitance of letting anyone get too close to her heart. She grew up bouncing from foster home to foster home, and finally walked away from that life when she was sixteen. Since then, she has always found herself on her feet, in a good school, with a decent roof above her head, well-fed and intellectually stimulated. 

And now, she is at University, working towards her PhD in Physics.

“Don’t let that Smith fella steal you away from me, Rosie. You’ll always be my best girl, right?”

“Course, Jack!” She winks at him, but they both know the truth.

oOo

“Would you double prove my theorem? I finally got it out of my head and onto paper last night.”

“What? You just started working on that on Monday.” He breaks away from the dusty tome he is reading, and looks at her over his spectacles. 

She has discovered that she really, really likes those spectacles, or rather, the way he looks at her when he is wearing them. Her stomach flips pleasantly and for a moment she can’t think clearly. She manages to collect her thoughts. 

“Yeah, well, I figured I might as well do something productive, since I couldn’t sleep. Had another one of those odd dreams. Woke up at two am crying my eyes out.”

“So, where’d you take me last night?” He gets up and makes a move to sit on the edge of her desk. He always gets a kick out of hearing her recount her dreams. She rubs her tired eyes with the balls of her hands.

She has been having a lot of odd dreams lately, and Dr. Smith has featured prominently in many of them. Together they battle metal men and monsters, visit exotic places and faraway times both here on Earth and out into the far reaches of the universe. She has toyed with the idea of writing a dream journal. She decides to stop by the stationery store on the way home. 

“Well, last night I was on this rocket ship? Thing? But it wasn’t moving. It was stationary, in orbit above Earth maybe? I’m not sure what it was. Perhaps I was on the moon, I don’t know. Anyway, I was high above the Earth lookin’ at it, just watching it. But then, the sun expanded and the Earth blew up.”

“No wonder you woke up crying and couldn’t go back to sleep.” 

“Oh, no! no! no! No one was living on Earth anymore. The planet, it was deserted. I got the impression that it was very far in the future and all the people had colonized other planets or something. 

“But you know what _was_ scary? I looked at my reflection in the window, and I didn’t see my own face. I _knew_ it was me, but I looked completely different. Face, height, hair, everything. I had this short black haircut, sort of like Audrey Hepburn’s haircut in that movie, _Roman Holiday_ , and I was wearing all black, like I was in mourning.”

Dr. Smith pictures her as she has described herself, and it is not an unpleasant picture, though he really does like this version of her very much. Who is he kidding? He’d liked her with that face and hair. She could even have trophy-handle ears and a big nose and he’d think she was brilliant.

“I was really sad about something else. I don’t remember why I was so sad, though.” She swivels in her chair and turns to look Dr. Smith in the eye. “But then you appeared next to me. You were just there. I’d been alone before that. You took my hand and — and you made me better. I still woke up crying, though. The sadness was completely overwhelming.”

He reaches for her hand, just like in her dream, and she blushes and a chill runs up her spine. 

“Well, it wasn’t real, and I’m here, and there is no reason to be sad, Rose Tyler.”

They look at each other for a long while, and then simultaneously burst into smiles. 

She breaks their silence. “I want chips.”

“You’re buying right?”

“Oi! Cheap date you are!” She bumps his shoulder with hers as they walk out together.

“You asked me, remember?” he says with a teasing smirk. They laugh and flirt all the way to the chippy. It isn’t until they reach the shop and he goes to open the door for her that he realizes they are holding hands. It feels wonderful.


	3. Part III

## Part III

Her acquaintances have begun to tease her about the way she looks at Dr. Smith, and how she goes on and on about this or that amazing thing that he has said in lecture that day, or a book he has recommended she read. They also warn her not to let her infatuation get in the way of her lofty intellectual goals.

The department secretaries and assistants trade mostly good-natured gossip about their favorite genius professor and his lovely and brilliant assistant. They also laugh at how oblivious Dr. Smith and Miss Tyler are about how they really feel about each other. Some are worried, though, that the age difference is simply too large. There is no official policy against fraternization between professors and research assistants, as she is not receiving any sort of grade. Although, well-meaning fatherly types are concerned what an affair of this sort would do to his career, and her personal reputation. 

There is no reason to believe she isn’t still a “good” girl, but this sort of thing can result in “things” and private, hasty marriages and the derailing of career plans of promising young geniuses.

Plus there is the fact that he is not available, though no one likes the woman with whom he is involved. She is the daughter of the Dean of the College of Sciences. She is beautiful, sophisticated, blue-blooded, cold, and proud. No one wants to ruffle her feathers as it is those within her social circle who provide most of the private research grants. Keeping her happy keeps the money coming in.

oOo

It is the last day of the term before the Christmas holiday. She is working on marking the final exams submitted by his Introduction to Physics students, and giggles every once in a while at some of the ridiculous answers. A thought pops into her head and without thinking before she speaks, she blurts an invitation.

“There’s a star gazing event up north, in the Scottish Highlands on New Year’s Eve. Would you come with me? You haven’t mentioned any plans and I know you don’t have family around, and I literally have no one, and I really don’t want to drive up there all alone and well, I know it would be a lark. We could celebrate the New Year together doing what we both love doing. Looking at the stars. It’ll be cold to be sure, but we can bundle up, and I have lots of blankets and we could have tea and biscuits and—” she sees the stunned look on his face and she stops speaking.

He is speechless, a rarity. He wonders if she is asking him to do more than stargaze. He is attracted to her to be sure. Oh, who is he kidding? This isn’t attraction. It is more, much stronger than that. 

But he isn’t available. He has to remind himself of this fact almost constantly. He has yet to tell Rose about Michelle. He can’t seem to bring himself to do it. It would make _things_ real. Both his sham of a relationship with that woman and his what. Fondness? Friendship? No, it’s definitely _love._

He is head over heels in love with his pink and yellow research assistant.

“Err, I well, Miss Smith, Rose, I…” But then he regards the disappointment on her face, and he realizes that she is well and truly asking him to go stargazing. He really does want to go and Michelle never wants to do anything outside, and has plans of her own anyway — a posh party at the Ritz in London to which he was not invited. 

Miss Tyler has never been one to speak in any other way but plainly, so he decides to take the invitation at its face value. 

“Yes,” he replies.

“Yeah?” she asks, hopeful but nervous.

“Yes. I’d be honored to accompany you.”

She smiles that smile, and he looks down at his feet that he finds he is shuffling nervously. 

“Great. I’ll bring my telescope, and you bring a thermos of tea and some sarnies? We should both bring as many afghans as we can stuff in the boot. I’ll come round about seven the morning of New Year’s Eve. I’ll book us a couple of rooms at a B&B nearby.”

“You have a motor car?” he asks, ignoring the bed and breakfast remark, afraid that his voice will crack.

“Her name is Bessie and she’s a beaut. I think you’ll be rather impressed!” She is rather proud of her roadster. 

He decides to bring that bottle of Champagne he’s been saving for a special occasion.


	4. Part IV

## Part IV

It’s Thursday night, the night before Christmas Eve, and Rose Tyler has missed dinner service at Miss Lovegood’s, so she heads down to the pub for some chips. There is a small Christmas tree on the bar and the place is unusually quiet, with only a few patrons. She slides onto a stool and places her order with Jack. He pours her a cup of tea and heads off to the kitchen. 

A thick, greasy man sits on the stool between her and another young girl to her right. The girl has obviously been waiting for her date, but he’s late by the guess of things, as she checks her wristwatch every two minutes.

“‘Ello sweetness, how much for a tumble?” His noxious breath smells of cigars, alcohol and poor dental hygiene, even though he is facing the ginger haired beauty on the other end of the bar.

“I ain’t for sale, mate.” The girl spits out without making eye contact.

He grabs her arm. “‘Course you are, you filthy little whore.” His bloated face turns purple with rage, and he grabs the girl’s head and tries to kiss her. 

“You will your hands off of her, you ugly brute.” The words come out of Rose’s mouth with a ferocity she didn’t know she had. 

The man swivels on his stool until he’s facing her. A lascivious grin spreads on his face. “Oh, I like ‘em feisty. Let’s see what you have to offer under that jumper.” He reaches out to grope her, but before he can lay a hand on her, she pinches his shoulder. Something about defensive move number 67-2 in Verusian Karate washes through her mind. He yelps like a kicked puppy and falls off of the stool, and lands with a thud, unconscious. 

She looks down at him, wide-eyed, unsure of how she knew how to do that, but glad all the same. She rushes over to the girl he accosted in the first place and offers her a few kind words and puts her arm around her shoulders. The girl’s date finally arrives, and he rushes to her side when he sees her hot tears. 

Rose removes herself from their reunion. Her voice is shaking now when she asks the Jack if she can have the chips as takeaway, and she gulps her tea down in one go, burning her mouth. The burly man on the floor begins to stir, rising onto his hands and knees like the animal that he is. Two large patrons rise from their chairs and manhandle him under his arms, dragging him out back into the cold alley. One of them kicks him in the arse for good measure.

Her greasy bag of chips is ready, and she takes it from the Jack, and puts her money on the counter. “On the house, Rosie,” he tells her in his American accent, winking a sapphire blue eye as he slides the note and coins back at the girl. She thanks him, and wipes away a tear that has made her way out of the corner of her eye.

“You gonna be all right sweetheart?” he asks. “I could walk you home. I’m always there for you, you know. Awfully good at offering all sorts of comfort,” he grins and wags his eyebrows, and she laughs. She would be offended to hear the line from anyone else, but from good old Captain Jack, it just sounds endearing. 

“Bloody tosser. I’m tired of people thinking the wrong thing of me just ‘cos my hair is blonde and I’m alone at the pub on a Wednesday night.”

“Well, he isn’t welcome here any more, Rosie. You go home and forget all about it.”

As she’s about to leave, Dr. Smith walks in, accompanied by a stunningly stylish brunette woman. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Miss Tyler.” His voice is awkward, stiff and formal. “Let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Michelle Smythe.”

She almost chokes. “Your girlfriend? Right.” She purses her lips and then relaxes them. “Nice. I mean it’s very nice to meet you.” Rose extends her hand and the woman offers her own, limp and elegant.

“So I finally meet the brilliant Rose Tyler. Don’t know why he hasn’t introduced us before,” Her voice is like 100 year old Scotch poured over ice cubes, smooth and thick and thoroughly grown up. 

At that moment, Rose Tyler feels sixteen years old again and exceedingly awkward in her second-hand and far-too-long brown trench coat and school girl plaits.

“I was just heading out, um, Dr. Smith. See you at the lab tomorrow?” Her heart is detached from her words, although she isn’t sure why this revelation should bother her so much. There is nothing between them other than friendship. Although she considers him her best mate, even if it is apparently one-sided. But even acquaintances, let alone friends, should tell each other about something as significant as a girlfriend. She pastes on a smile and bids them goodnight.

“Uh Rose, I so sorry. I forgot to mention it earlier. I’m taking the rest of the week off for the Christmas holidays. Don’t worry about coming into work tomorrow. Enjoy your time off.”

Rose nods and smiles dimly.

“Happy Christmas Rose.”

“Thanks Dr. Smith. Happy Christmas to you too. And it was,” she swallows, “nice to meet you Rochelle.” She can’t quite believe she has purposefully misspoken her name, but she has taken an immediate dislike to the woman. She feels a bit awful for that, but can’t seem to help herself.

“It’s Michelle, Miss Tyler.” The woman obviously returns her dislike given the way she has surveyed Rose from nose to toes and turned up that perfect, blue-blooded nose. 

Dr. Smith is looking more and more nervous as these two women are apparently holding a frozen smile contest. Miss Smythe loops her arm through Dr. Smith’s and pulls him to her possessively. She whispers something apparently very personal into his ear, as he blushes furiously. She kisses him on his cheek. Her perfectly applied red lipstick leaves a perfect impression of her lips on his handsome cheek. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes it off with a scowl.

“Well then. Best get going.” Rose pushes passed the couple and leaves the pub. Her heart is in the pit of her stomach as she walks back to her lonely single room which she lets from Miss Lovegood, the spinster Medieval literature professor. And for a moment, she imagines herself as a spinster professor of physics, letting rooms to single university students whose hearts have been crushed by handsome and brilliant professors with whom they should never have fallen in love.

oOo

Jack has dutifully kept an eye on the Doctor for almost year now, working the job as the barkeep at the local, and he is bored out of his skull. He misses adventure, time travel, people from other centuries with looser ideas of beauty and intimacy, and he misses Hyper Vodka. But most of all, he misses the Doctor. He just wants the Doctor to be happy again. He almost punches Smith when he sees him walk in with that woman on his arm, knowing how Rose feels about him, and how John feels about her, though neither of them have ever admitted it.

“Only a few more days and we can blow this pop stand,” he mutters as Dr. Smith approaches to place their drink order. Michelle frowns as she looks down her nose at the rough patrons of the pub, and picks a spot far in the corner away from the rabble.

“So John, when you gonna come to your senses and ditch that witch for the one you really belong with? Should have done it ages ago.”

“Stop it,” he replies angrily, his mouth firmly set. He takes sip of his strong, amber drink and gently sets the shot glass down. “You know I have to keep up appearances. Keeping that woman happy was the Doctor’s rule number fourteen. Although I have yet to figure out why in the hell I have to be with her. But the Doctor insisted that we had to abide by whatever rules the TARDIS made for us. Must be something in her timeline that is important to maintain. We have to let things play out. The Doctor can’t wake up until she’s safe.”

“What’s one week difference gonna make John? That virus must have passed out of her system by now, right?”

“We can’t risk it Jack. If she opens that watch too early, her body could be ravaged by that virus. The human body is immune. I’m not going to let anything happen to her. It’s just eight more days, and she’ll be in the clear.”

“You’re right. I’m just so damn bored! And I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. Although at least you get to use that big old brain of yours teaching, and you get to spend every day with the Doctor.”

“Correction. I get to spend every day with Rose Tyler. There’s a difference.”

“How? She’s the same woman! Smart, funny, tender, brave. Shoulda seen her Spock the bastard who hit on that pretty ginger dame sitting over there a couple minutes before you came in.”

“What!?” John exclaims. “What happened?” he screeches.

Jack explains what the other patrons have told him they saw while he was back in the kitchen, and John rakes his hand down his face. 

“She is remembering, Jack. This proves it. She dreamed about Platform One the other night. Dreamed she saw herself with short hair. What if she wakes up too soon? Before the watch tells her it’s ready to be opened?”

“We only have to keep this up until New Year’s Day, John. Just a few more days. You can do it. I know you can. You saved her once. You almost gave your life for her. This is nothing compared to that. Just remember that, all right?”

“I know. But we were best friends, and now? Now I have to pretend to be this distant professor. And Michelle? Being with her is torture, Jack. She’s an awful person. She’s cheating on me, did you know that? I’m hoping that she just runs off with the man. Do you know how much it hurts to lie to the Doctor?” 

Jack thinks that John looks like he might cry, the pain on his face is so pronounced.

“You haven’t… ya’ know?” he snicks his mouth a couple of times and makes a suggestive gesture with his hands.

“Stop it.” He levels a look. “No. I haven’t. Not that she isn’t persistent. Glad this is 1954 England. No place else would I find a woman who would actually believe the line I’ve been feeding her that _‘I’m an old fashioned man, and I’m waiting for marriage’._ ” He roughly swallows the refill that Jack has put in front of him.

“You visited the TARDIS lately?”

“Yeah, last night. I needed to consult the list again. She invited me star gazing up in Scotland for New Years.” He smiles softly. “That’s good, right?”

“No, that’s not good.” A smile grows on Jack’s face. “That’s great.” 

“Jack, I’ve watched her video about a hundred times now. Why didn’t she say anything about—” he gets a pained look on his face.

“About…” Jack draws out the question, prompting him to finish.

“Jack, she never said what to do if she fell in love. She’s in love with me. Rose Tyler is in love with Professor Smith. I can tell.”

“And this is a problem because?”

“She’s not in her right mind! She’s not the Doctor! I can’t just go and take advantage of her when she’s vulnerable like this.”

“I don’t think it’s exactly taking advantage when two parties are more than happy and wiling to be in said circumstance, now is it?”

“Well when you put it that way. Hold on, you’re confusing me, Jack. I’m not—”

“Who are you kidding, Smith? You and her — you’ve been in love from the very start. I saw the way the two of you looked at each other all the way back when she was all leather and short hair and sarcasm. And she didn’t look at you any differently after she became all pink and yellow and soft and tender. I never made a play for either of you because the very first day I met you two, she looked at me with those icy blue eyes of hers and I knew both of you were off limits. I am telling you, there is nothing to be confused about. But if you are so worried, wait until New Year’s Day. But tell her. She deserves to know.”

Jack wipes the bar down with his towel and nods in Michelle’s generation direction. “You’d better go take care of Queenie over there. She’s got a look on her face.”

“Blimey! She does look upset, doesn’t she? Do you have any earplugs you could spare?” he asks cheekily. “I’m about to get an earful.”

“No, but I have handcuffs. You could always lock her to that post and run after Rose, and give her what you know she really wants for Christmas. Or you could take the handcuffs and go after Rose and give her what she really wants for Christmas. Win-win situation, Smith.”

John squints at him in irritation. Jack leans over the bar and slaps him on the shoulder while he mouths, “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”


	5. Part V

## Part V

Rose spends Christmas Eve in a traditional service of carols and lessons at the Anglican church down the street. She leaves the service early and decides to walk alone under the stars. She looks through the merrily lit windows of the homes of all those families with their festive traditions and domesticity. 

She feels hollow inside, like her heart is so much bigger than her body, but that it is empty and is begging to be filled. She runs herself breathless and doesn’t stop until she reaches her house. 

She ignores the merry greetings of the elderly professor and the other boarders, taking the stairs by twos. She collapses onto her bed without undressing and dreams of fire and destruction and the end of time.

oOo 

Christmas morning dawns, and a surprise blanket of snow covers the garden. Rose makes her way downstairs and helps Professor Lovegood prepare a traditional English fry up for breakfast. She discovers that there are a few beautifully wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree with her name on them. The gift tags are unsigned, but she recognizes the handwriting, and is utterly amazed that Dr. Smith would have sent her Christmas presents. She tears them open with abandon and immediately puts on the deep purple Scottish tam, matching scarf and mittens.

Christmas Dinner is spent with the other boarders around Professor Lovegood’s bountiful table. Rose has a genuinely pleasant time.

“So… you and Dr. Smith? Go on, spill.” Peggy, who is a secretary in the physics department, is a little bit tipsy and her tongue has grown loose under the influence of a few cocktails. “What do the two of you get up to in that private office of his? Is he a good kisser? He’s a right looker, he is. I just want to run my fingers through that hair of his.” She growls.

Rose blushes. “You know we’re not like that, Pegs. Besides, he is involved. I just met the woman a couple of nights ago.”

“So you met Michelle Smythe then? What a perfect cow.” Peggy takes a sip of her cocktail. “You are so much prettier and smarter than that woman. Everyone knows he feels some sick sense of obligation to stay with her.”

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me he has a girlfriend?” she asks, irritated.

“Oh, so now it matters then? You always say you aren’t interested, so I never said anything,” she slurs. “Should’ve known. Me thinks the lady protesteth too much.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says a bit too defensively. “So, how long they been seeing each other?” Rose takes a casual sip of her cocktail. It warms her throat and calms her nerves.

“Oh, ‘bout nine months now. The woman somehow got her manicured claws into him and has never let go. Everyone knows he’s gonna be head of the department someday. Maybe even University President eventually. Was hired away from Harvard in the States. Rising star, he is. She’s counting on that. He’s respectable, smart, handsome, charming and everything that her family expects her to marry. But what he doesn’t know, is that she has a piece of pretty on the side.”

“What?” Rose says too quickly.

Peggy takes on a secretive tone. “His name is Terrence Delaney. He’s completely unsuitable. Been divorced three times. Likes to find a rich society girl, blow through her trust fund and leave her. He’s poor as a church mouse. Plays trombone in a radio dance band. Her family can never know about him, but somehow everyone else does. It’s been going on for about two months now.” 

“Poor Dr. Smith! Does he know?”

“If he does, he’s much too much of a gentleman to say anything.”

Rose chews her lip and has a far away look in her eyes. 

“That scarf and hat are awfully nice. So who do you think they were from then?” Peggy asks.

She ignores the question. “Pretty, innit?” She grins as she strokes the long knitted scarf. She takes off the matching Scottish-style tam and turns it over in her hands fondly. “It’ll be good for New Year’s Eve.”

“You have plans?”

“I do,” Rose says quietly looking down at the magenta and aubergine pattern. “I invited Dr. Smith to a star gazing event up in Scotland,” she answers bashfully. “And he said yes.”

“Oh he did now, did he?”

As she is now under the influence of a bit too much Christmas cheer, Rose Tyler admits to her almost friend that she has, indeed, fallen for Dr. John Smith.

Safely in the pocket of Jack Harkness’s blue greatcoat, a fob watch wakes up.


	6. Part VI

## Part VI

John stops by the pub on the December thirty. He hands Jack a letter. John hasn’t smiled this brightly since Kyoto. Jack reads it and slaps the bar with a shout of “Hot dog!” He reaches into his pocket, and hands John the fob watch. “New Year’s Eve, midnight. Not a second before. Got it?”

John nods purposefully and leaves.

oOo

New Year’s Eve morning finally arrives, and Rose Tyler hops into her yellow roadster and motors over to Dr. Smith’s stone cottage. He invites her in for a cup of tea while he gathers a few things together and packs them carefully in a picnic hamper. His home is utterly charming. It is that good kind of cluttered that keeps ones eyes busy exploring. She notices a beautiful leather-bound set of Shakespeare’s works. She asks if she may take one from the shelf. He nods, and she opens it up, and sees that it was published in the late eighteenth century.

He brings her a cup of tea and a plate of toast and directs her to sit in his favorite reading chair situated next to the cheery, crackling fire. She doesn’t mean to see the letter, she really doesn’t, but it is open on the side table, prominently displayed. She can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t put there for her to read.

_“Dear John, by the time you receive this letter, I will be sailing for America with Terrence. I can no longer keep up this charade. I’m am sorry if I have hurt you John. My head says I should be with you, but my heart lies in the arms of another man, and if I’m being brutally honest, I know your heart lies elsewhere, too. Best wishes my sweet John, Michelle.”_

Rose looks at Dr. Smith. His movements are light and buoyant. She hears him whistling _Moonlight Serenade_. He hasn’t stopped smiling from the moment she arrived to pick him up. She flushes at the thoughts that are flooding her mind.

“And I am finally set. Shall we go?” He has a large hamper in one hand, and his overnight bag in the other. She gulps as she eyes the luggage, a reminder that at some point tonight, they will have to go to that bed and breakfast that she has booked. She offered to make the arrangements, but hasn’t been brave enough to tell him that they only had one room left. For the sake of their reputations, she has booked the room for Dr. and Mrs. John Tyler.

oOo

Rose asks Dr. Smith to drive. He asks her to call him John. They both oblige. The long drive passes in a flash as they talk of the stars, the possibility of life on other planets (they both believe this to be likely, if not fact), literature, art, history and anything that pops into their minds. They tease each other unmercifully, sing silly songs, and flirt shamelessly. 

They check into the bed and breakfast and drop off their things, and not a question is asked as to their true identity, although John raises an eyebrow and smirks when she tells their hostess that their reservation is under the name Dr. and Mrs. John Tyler. They fit so perfectly together. who would ever question it?

oOo

The night air is frigid, and they are the only two to show up to the event. Rose sets up her telescope.

“That is a beautiful piece of equipment Rose. May I look?”

“‘Course! That’s why we’re here after all.” Rose claps her mittened hands, and then pulls her warm knitted tam further over her ears.

“You wore the scarf, mittens, and cap I see,” John says without removing his eye from the scope.

“So they _were_ from you. Thank you. I love them so much,” she says sincerely.

“Yep. I sent them anonymously, of course. I couldn’t risk being found out, given at the time I was seeing — _her_.”

“I couldn’t help but notice the letter on—“

He looks up from the eyepiece and catches her eyes. “I left it there for you to see, Rose.”

“I thoughtso. I don’t need to know the details, John. It’s between you and Michelle, and I just found out about the two of you only before Christmas, and you and me, we’re not—“

John breaks her rambling explanation but places his hands on each side of her head, and silences her with a searing kiss. She stands stone still for a moment, her arms stretched out wide, but then she wraps her arms around him like he’s a life preserver, and pulls him as close as she can. She wishes the kiss could go on and on, but she’s running out of oxygen, though something tells her that she should be able to continue to kiss him a lot longer than this. She finally pulls away at the last possible moment. They are both breathing hard, gulping down the cold air in preparation to dive right back in. 

“Oh we’re not, are we?” he asks with a smile.

She bites her lower lip and he pulls her to him again. This kiss is even more fevered and deep than the first, and they quickly drop onto the blanket laid out on the cold, frozen ground, neither really noticing or caring about the frigid bed. A golden light invades her mind, and she hears singing and swears that she feels him limp in her arms. 

She feels like the weight of the world is pressing down on her as he flips her onto her back and protects her from the cold with his own body. But she feels like she’s the one who should be doing the protecting. The saving. But this time, he’s saving her.

He pulls away from her lips slowly and nudges his nose where her jaw meets her neck. He rolls off of her onto his side, and simply looks at her. They don’t stay like this long as the cold finally catches up. He stands up and offers her his hand, which she happily accepts. She’s worried about what might happen later. She hasn’t _danced_ before. She’s been waiting for the right one. She knows she has found him.


	7. Part VII

## Part VII

They return to their room after watching the comet slowly appear as it sweeps by the Earth. 

They look out the window while he holds her in the soft light of the bedroom. She feels safe. Her bigger-on-the-inside heart is starting not to feel so empty anymore. 

But there is still something missing. She can’t put her finger on it, but there is the echo of a song in her head she can’t seem to shake. She pulls away and takes off her long, brown coat, and drapes it over a chair. She’s wearing her cashmere twinset and a pair of brown pinstriped ladies’ trousers which accentuate her curves.

He looks at his wristwatch, which he has set according to the experimental and very secret atomic clock that he has built with the help of the TARDIS, so that he can track the exact moment that it is safe for the Doctor to open the watch and restore herself.

The past few hours have been so glorious that he has missed the moment. “Midnight passed, and we missed it.” He is smiling and looks so hopeful.

“No we didn’t. When you kissed me? It was midnight.” 

“It was? How do you know?”

She shrugs casually. “I dunno how I know. I can feel time sort of. Always have had a general sense of it at least.”

“Rose, there is something you need to know, about us, about… you and me…” He stops his ramble and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the fob watch. He hands it to her. 

She rubs her thumb over the beautiful etching that graces the cold, metal case. She furrows her brow in concentration and begins to open the watch.

“Wait! Don’t open it.” He almost shouts, but then lowers his voice. “I love you, no matter what. Whether you are Rose Tyler, brilliant university student, or the Doctor. I love you. Always have I think, and I think that you love me too.”

“I do, John. I do, so much.” She kisses him softly. “But why wouldn’t I love you if I open a watch? Or when I am awarded my PhD and get to write ‘Dr.’ before my name? Don’t be daft.” She hits him playfully on the arm. 

“No, it’s not that, it’s—“

She interrupts him. “Oh, I know, there some horrible secret inside right? Let me guess. You have a secret identity, that’s it! You are a spy! A double agent. The Norwegians think you are working for them, but really you are on the payroll of MI6, right?” She giggles, but stops when he isn’t laughing along with her.

“No. nothing like that. Well, really it’s — well — Rose, it’s you. You are inside of that watch. The real you.” 

“What are you goin’ on about. I don’t know what you mean.” She smiles strangely and scrunches her face in confusion. She is suddenly scared by the terrified hitch in his voice.

“Rose Tyler isn’t your real name. You are the Doctor, a Time Lady. The last Time Lady — or Lord — for that matter. You aren’t really human. You are a 900 and something years old. You’re an alien from the planet Gallifrey. We — you and me and Jack — we were on the planet Corsicall when you contracted a virus that was deadly to you in your natural state. Jack and I carried you back to the TARDIS, that’s your ship. 

“You told us about this device on your ship, this thing, this horrible and wonderful thing called a Chameleon Arch. You begged us, no matter what, to not interfere, and it was all we could do to ignore your screams, but it saved your life, Doctor. It re-wrote your biology and changed you into a human until the virus could run its course safely in this human body. It took a full year. But something went wrong in the programming. It was only supposed to change your physiology, but it re-wrote your memories as well. Created an entire identity for you. It is only supposed to do that if you need to go into hiding, like someone being protected from the mafia who gets shipped off to another country with a new name and a bad new hair color. So, the TARDIS arranged backgrounds for Jack and me, too, so we could keep an eye on you, protect you, make sure no harm came to you.”

She stares at him, mouth agape for a while, but then laughs. She points at him in hysterics. “You’re drunk! You got yourself drunk when I wasn’t lookin’ didn’t you? You are funny when you’re drunk John Smith! I like you!” She falls over onto her side on the bed and continues her hysterics for at least a full minute.

John sits in the window seat and rests his elbows on his knees, and watches her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit, as the entire idea must sound rather idiotic, to be honest. He sits up a bit straighter. “I’m not drunk, Doctor. I’m telling you the truth.”

“Not drunk? Right. Leave it to me to fall in love with a nutter. I don’t care, though, not one bit. I can absolutely live with being in love with the mad scientist type, but only if you are the mad scientists.” She gets up from the bed and walks over to him with the intention of pulling him into a snog. 

He isn’t laughing one bit now. He is dead serious, and she backs away when he stands up, towering over her. “Your dreams? They aren’t dreams. They are the Doctor’s memories. Your memories.”

“But some of those dreams were horrible. Monsters and extra terrestrials and metal men and giant pepper pots. And my home, it burned. In my dreams, it burned!” She pulls her hand to her mouth and gasps. “They are all gone. My people, they are all gone! If this is my truth, then I don’t want to remember! I want to stay Rose Tyler! I don’t want to be this Doctor person! I don’t want to be all alone!”

“But you aren’t alone, you have me, and you have Jack and you’ve saved so many people. Whole planets. Whole civilizations. We’ll always be there for you. And as for me, I plan on staying with you forever. I’ve decided and that’s that. Don’t you dare talk me out of it.” He takes her hands into his and leads her back to the bed, where they sit side-by-side.

“So, open it Doctor. Please open it. You can hear it, can’t you? The watch, your Time Lady consciousness, is calling to you, begging to be free. I can see it in your eyes. You know I’m telling you the truth. Even I can hear it. The TARDIS, your ship, she’s letting me hear it too. I’ll be right here with you. I promise. No matter how you think of me after, I will stay right here with you. I’ll never mention the kiss again, if you don’t want to. But please.” He closes his eyes and begs. “Open it.”

The words go straight into her hearts. Heart. Hearts?

She stares at the watch a good long while, turning it over and over in her hand, feeling the weight of it, studying the unearthly circular designs. She closes her eyes as the simple song swells into a symphony, and the watch begs her to be opened. 

“What is the worse that could happen? A pop-out snake jumps at me and you say surprise! Happy New Year!” She laughs nervously.

“No. That’s not the worst that could happen. Thing is, Doctor, when you become yourself again, I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t know if you will remember any of this. If you’ll remember what you have come to mean to me, or what I think I mean to you. I don’t know if you will love me anymore. It’s all a mystery. We were best mates before this Rose Tyler business, you and I. I always wanted more with you, though, but I was too afraid to say anything about it, and you hinted and flirted, but I made myself believe it was just a game between us. But the thing is Doctor, you have to be yourself again. Because the universe needs you, and needs you much, much more than I do. I can’t be so selfish as to keep you for myself. You have to open the watch.”

Rose grabs the watch from his hands suddenly resolved. She slowly pries it open, holding her breath. 

A golden mist drifts out and engulfs her. Her breath hitches, her face convulses in agony as her body regrows organs, her cellular structure transforms and her mind expands to accommodate her full Time Lady consciousness. Her eyes roll up into her head and her head lolls back. 

She stays like this for what seems an eternity to John, and then her head snaps forward all at once and she gasps for air. She turns to John and smiles. She throws her arms around him and she cries into his shoulder. It is an altogether un-Doctorish thing to do, but her emotions and brain and body are all out of whack and it’s going to take some time to regain her composure. He holds her and rocks her until her tears subside.

She sniffs her final tears away and pulls away, her back straightening, and her chin proudly raised. 

“How dare you, John Smith, you were rude!” she points an accusing finger in his direction.

“What?” he protests, scowling in confusion.

“You didn’t believe that I would still love you when I came back. Well you are wrong, mister. I love you with two hearts now, and don’t you forget it! Got it?” She smiles so widely that it looks like her face may break, and then she kisses John Smith on the mouth. It isn’t a lover’s kiss, but a kiss of hello and I’m so glad to be alive and everything is wonderful and perfect.

She jumps off of the bed and strikes a pose. “And I am so sorry that it took this… this… human thing to make me come to my senses. Although, maybe I’m a bit glad that I got to be human for a while. Had its positive points. 

“I think I rather like that pining away bit, wondering ‘does he love me, doesn’t he love me?’ rubbish. I sort of can see the appeal of human romance novels now, although, I think that the Kremlocks have the corner on the market when it comes to angsty love stories. And being able to be a little bit tipsy? That was rather fun. 

“Oooo jealousy! Fantastic emotion! Do you know how jealous I was over that cow Michelle? What had her knickers in a knot anyway? I never did anything to her, and she looked at me like I had just kicked her puppy. Oh John, I’m so sorry you had to go through that with her. To think that the TARDIS made you put up with that woman. I’m going to have a little talk with my ship when we get back. Oh! That — that stinker! She did that on purpose! My TARDIS did it on purpose! My ship made you think you had to stick it out with Miss Rochelle Smithers. I think she did it just to make me jealous.

“Wait. I just had a thought. A brilliant, fantastic, amazing thought. What a brilliant, brilliant girl my TARDIS is. I take it all back! I’m going to massage her fuel uptake lines until she is positively purring. Of course she did it on purpose! She wanted us to finally own up to things that we should have admitted to a long, long time ago!”

She lunges at John and pins him to the bed. Her blonde hair hangs down around her face and tickles his cheeks. His eyes, once wide with confusion, now show the Doctor that he understands what she has been rambling on about for the past minute and a half.

“My TARDIS is a proper matchmaker, she is.” She kisses the man beneath her. 

John wraps his arms around her and flips her so that now she is under him.

He smiles and kisses her tenderly. “So… do you want to head back to the TARDIS tonight, or…”

“Oh, definitely ‘or’, John Smith. There is something I have I wanted to do for a very, very long time.”

“What’s that?” He tucks a stray lock of golden hair behind her ear so he can see her face more clearly.

“Well, even Time Ladies have fantasies, you know. And I have had one particular… desire for quite a while now.”

“What’s that?” His voice is low and thick.

She whispers huskily into his ear. “To see what you look like in your glasses.”

“You see me wearing them every day, what are you talking about?” He whinges a bit.

She rolls her eyes. “But not you wearing _only_ your glasses, you stupid ape!”


End file.
